


An Afternoon in Pink

by Natasha_Von_Lecter



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Rumbelle Summer Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-12 00:00:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11725302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Natasha_Von_Lecter/pseuds/Natasha_Von_Lecter
Summary: Rumple & Bell enjoy one of the great English Traditions on their second honeymoon in London





	An Afternoon in Pink

Her first impression was pink. The room was completely swathed in soft, pastel shades of the most delicious candy floss, rose, and ballet pink. The banquettes were rich, plush velvet, and the low arm chairs across from them looked ready to cradle anyone lucky enough to perch upon them. Muted orbs of soft white light were fixed along the tops of the booths, and the walls were decorated with simple, black and white sketches. She took in the one closest to her, and blushed – the sketch was undeniably funny, but the rude nature of the joke seemed at odds with the delicate, retro vibe of the dining room. She smiled as she felt Rumple’s hand stroke over her lower back, guiding her towards a table nestled in the center of the room. Always the gentleman, he pulled her chair out for her, and slid it in once she had settled. The seats were as comfortable as their image promised. She sighed and leaned back as her husband sunk into the banquette across from her. The mischievous glint of the imp she had fallen in love with tugged at the corner of his mouth. It was a smile, but there was always a bit of a smirk lurking just under the surface. She wouldn’t have it any other way, either.

“It’s gorgeous, Rumple, but you still haven’t told me why we’re here. Since you said to come hungry, I’m assuming we’re eating, but the waitress didn’t give us menus.”

“There’s only one thing on the menu here, love, but I promise you’ll like it.”

Their second honeymoon had already been wondrous. She’d thrilled at the sight of the Thames stretching out before her, and the chimes of Big Ben had been music to her ears. The Tower of London had a sad history, true, but it had reminded her so much of the Dark Castle that she instantly felt at home. And though she knew she should have scolded him, she laughed and twirled happily when he’d magicked one of the Queen’s Tiaras right out of its Crown Jewels display case and onto her head. She’d made him put it back, of course, but she had to admit it did suit her. Now that they’d seen the touristy sights, she was happy to settle into the meal he’d arranged for them. She’d been touched with the care he’d put into planning their trip; he’d solicited her opinion on all the details, but he’d asked to be given a day to surprise her as well.

She reached for his hand but pulled back as two servers approached their table in tandem. The first deposited a large, multi-tiered tray between them, while the second poured them two cups of piping hot tea. Belle’s eyes widened as she took in the bounty before them. The bottom tier was filled with delicate, crustless sandwiches. Egg salad topped with caviar, soft cheese and pesto, salmon and cream cheese, and cucumbers sliced impossibly thin. The next tier featured hot, golden scones tucked into a pristine white cloth. Beside them were cushioned several pots of jam and a dish full of rich clotted cream. The top tier, though, that really astonished her. It was filled to bursting with a dazzling assortment of the most tantalizing pastries she had ever seen. Bright pink cake rolls, checkered Battenburgs, delicate custard tarts, and a pot of chocolate mousse. She couldn’t fathom finishing them all, but trying was going to be a pleasure. When she tore her eyes away, she found her husband smiling unabashedly at her.

“I knew you’d like the cakes. I don’t think you’ve ever had a true afternoon tea.”

“Plenty of tea in the afternoons, but never anything this splendid.”

He reached for the sugar, and approached his teacup, but she stilled his hand. “Let me.”

She dropped two lumps of sugar into his cup, splashed it with milk, and stirred as the two dissolved into a soft, tan cup of perfection. He looked moved.

“I knew I loved you that day. When you were shaking so hard you dropped my cup. You terrified me.”

“I terrified you? You were the one claiming to hunt children.”

“Well, I couldn’t go falling in love with my pretty, royal maid now, could I? I knew I had to be wary of you or you’d wrap me right around your little finger.”

“How did that plan work out for you?” She teased.

“Spectacular failure. I think we can both agree, my natural habitat is curled around your little finger.”

She laughed, and he smiled, and they dug into the bounty before them. Rumple pretended not notice that Belle started with the cakes. A waitress returned with a bottle of champagne, but Belle raised her hand in protest. “Just the tea for me, please.”

“Nonsense, Belle. I know it’s early, but we’re celebrating. Besides, a Champagne tea is a great British tradition.”

“I shouldn’t.”

“Belle…”

“I really…can’t.” She looked at him pointedly, and realization dawned on him. He promptly dropped his teacup; the bright clink of china breaking echoed through the room. The waitress bent to retrieve it and scurried away to fetch another. Belle set her napkin on the table, and muttered about the restroom as she followed after the waitress.

Rumple gripped the edge of the table, steadying himself. Pink swam before his eyes and he begin to laugh. He wondered if it was an omen. Belle returned several minutes later, blushing furiously. “Have you seen the restrooms in this place? They’re…eggs! Strangest thing I ever saw!” He was looking at her intently, and she couldn’t break his gaze.

“How far along are you?”

“Three months. I was going to surprise you when we got home. I had the nursery painted while we were away.”

He took her hand in his, and stroked his thumb gently over her fingers. He smiled up at the bright pink walls and she followed his gaze. “Do you think it’s a girl this time, sweetheart?” She laughed and squeezed his hand back. “Yes, I think this one is a girl.”

His heart swelled in his chest. A fresh start. A child. And this time, he’d be there, from the beginning. Finally, he’d do things right.

A moment later, the waitress reappeared with a small white box topped with a pink bow. “As requested, Madame, a treat for later.”

Rumple laughed, “I’m never eating again after that feast. I’m impressed with your dedication to sweets, dearie.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

For all his talk, Rumple was peckish that evening. Glancing at the box from the afternoon, he decided a little treat wouldn’t be out of order. They were on vacation, after all. He drew open the pink bow, expecting a few petit fours, but his hand touched something harder. His wife sidled up behind him, and wrapped him in her arms. He drew out the chipped cup from their afternoon tea. She leaned up on her tip toes and kissed his ear, before she whispered, “A Souvenir. I thought we might start collecting happy beginnings.”


End file.
